Chapter Seventy-Six: Lu Bu's Courage Against a Thousand Men

A single offensive play had cost them four points; the mistake was mine, and I alone must atone for it! Lin Fei told himself fiercely.

He took possession of the ball. At that moment, his anger burned away all the convoluted tactics. All he saw now was the basket—scoring, nothing more.

With the ball in his hands, he moved—fast! Faster! Even faster!

Facing Guy’s tight defense, Lin Fei charged through with brute force, not even bothering with a feint. Normally, Lin Fei wasn’t comfortable with physical contact, but now, on the court, he was like an enraged bull, tearing through with the ball as if he’d taken flight.

Because of his blistering speed, Guy’s block, and Lin Fei’s long stride, the two collided and tumbled. But even after being knocked, Lin Fei forced up a shot. He didn’t touch anything, but at least there was a sliver of hope—and that was all Lin Fei ever sought.

He went to the free-throw line and made both shots.

Even as he shot his free throws, Guy harassed him relentlessly. Lin Fei took note of every word, storing them away—just wait.

Coach Nelson, unbothered, let Lin Fei “run wild” on the court, not even considering a substitution.

Lin Fei took the ball again. Same move. This time, Guy shifted with Lin Fei’s dribble to avoid a direct collision. But now, Lin Fei didn’t break through as decisively. Instead, he spun, dribbled past, and shot off toward midcourt—a range that was very much Lin Fei’s domain. The entire league knew: Lin Fei was nearly unique in being even deadlier from midcourt than he was from the three-point line. Several defenders hesitated, hoping to cut off his pass or shot, and even Guy, now beaten, hurried back to defend.

All who watched saw Lin Fei ablaze with fury—his hands like an AK-47, unleashing torrents of anger. Even if the entire Grizzlies team swarmed him, so what? Bring it on. In that moment, Lin Fei’s presence was overwhelming: Who dares stand in my way?

Against the Grizzlies’ wall of defense, Lin Fei was a sharpened axe, cleaving through and leaping for a jump shot.

The referees could hardly believe their eyes—this player had gone mad.

Every pore of Lin Fei’s body exuded killing intent.

The ball he released was like a guided missile, finding the net with unerring accuracy.

Could it be? Sixty points? Twenty-eight points in three minutes?

The Grizzlies called a frantic timeout to reset their strategy.

Nelson gathered his team and offered just one phrase: read the game according to the flow on the court. He understood that Lin Fei and the Warriors were at the height of their passion—there was no need to interfere.

Returning from timeout, the Grizzlies put the ball in Guy’s hands again. After a screen, Lin Fei switched onto X, and Guy once more faced Lin Fei, muscling his way to the basket. Lin Fei’s slender frame bent like a leaf in the wind, drifting with Guy’s drive. But this time, the Warriors tightened their interior defense; Jobs and Crowdeson leapt up to help, forcing Guy’s layup off the backboard. Lin Fei snatched the rebound and, without hesitation, rocketed upcourt. That first step was the signal—every Warrior surged ahead.

As Lin Fei led the charge, Nelson’s philosophy was clear: get the ball to the hoop as fast as possible. The best option was Lin Fei attacking solo.

A spectacular scene unfolded. Lin Fei weaved through defenders like scattering petals, then paused just past the arc—a sign to the astute that danger was imminent. When Lin Fei stopped with the ball, it meant he was about to shoot.

He launched a three-pointer with no one close enough to contest. This was a shot Lin Fei could not afford to miss.

He drained it, yet again.

His relentless scoring ignited another surge for the Warriors.

The Grizzlies called another timeout.

The Grizzlies’ coach shouted, “Defense! I want you to defend with everything you’ve got! Do not let that brat have an easy shot! Whether it’s one of you or two, work together, do whatever it takes—just keep him from scoring!” Clearly, the coach was at his wit’s end.

Guy continued to spearhead the Grizzlies’ attack, charging the rim with Lin Fei in pursuit. But Guy wasn’t aiming for the basket—he kept seeking body contact with Lin Fei. It was exasperating. Whenever Lin Fei guarded Guy, the slightest contact seemed to draw a foul. The Grizzlies’ strategy was obvious: rack up Lin Fei’s personal fouls so he couldn’t display his full talent. Once again, Guy succeeded, drawing Lin Fei’s fifth foul through manufactured contact.

Nelson saw it clearly. Lin Fei’s scoring was elite, but his experience was still that of a rookie—foul trouble was inevitable. Five fouls now; one more and he’d be out.

Yet Nelson kept him in the game, a decision that drew skepticism from many. But Nelson had the luxury of a strong bench; even if Lin Fei fouled out, he still had a full starting lineup to finish with.

Guy made both free throws, but with the gap between the Grizzlies and the Warriors, it was a drop in the ocean.

With a double-digit lead and half a quarter to play, Nelson boldly pulled all his starters, letting his reserves finish the game. A gutsy move.

Lin Fei took the ball once more, and this time, two defenders confronted him.

He smiled, passed to a teammate, then got the ball back near midcourt. The two defenders overlapped, leaving a gap. Lin Fei accelerated, then stepped back—neither defender could keep up with such a sudden burst and retreat.

He hit the shot—his final basket of the night. In the last quarter, a series of three-pointers had sealed the game as his own.

“This is his game alone!” Nelson marveled from the sidelines. “He’s just like Lu Bu!” It was all Nelson could say, but the meaning was clear: when Lin Fei was fierce, he possessed an unmatched, heroic valor—there was no way Nelson would not use him, and use him to the fullest.